


Brothers

by AJWmagickl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Light Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJWmagickl/pseuds/AJWmagickl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Daryl have grown apart, and suddenly Rick finds out why.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> It's pretty fluffy.  
> This is my first attempt at fan fiction & my first attempt at even the extremely light smut here. This could be better but I needed to just put it out here before I got too scared. *Throws flaming bag of poop on your doorstep & runs away*

Anyone walking down the street in Alexandria might have been very concerned at the sight of their leader, had they passed by Rick with his head buried his hands where he sat, on the steps of his porch. 

He appeared upset, perhaps exhausted, but the truth was that he was feeling as if he hadn't quite woken up from a very unusual dream. A leather vest lay draped across his lap, and he moved his hands to touch the fabric of the worn, faded wings sewn onto its back.

It was early. No one was on the street yet and a welcome quiet blanketed the community, from the stoic guards on the watchtowers to the stillness of the bare breeze. Sunlight barely touched the sky, weaving the morning in soft tones of pink and orange. After a moment, Rick sat up straight with a sigh, drinking in the feeling of melancholy that washed over him. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away, letting out a slight laugh at the unexpected rush of feeling. 

He was an emotional man when he allowed it, he had no shame in his feelings. But at the moment he was lifting out of his slight trance and found himself taken aback by the intensity of his guilt and a permeating feeling of loss that he had, until about five minutes ago, successfully ignored since the war began. 

Dipping his hand into the pocket of the vest on his knees, he took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and stared at them. 

How things change, he thought, extricating a single, slightly bent cigarette from the red and white package. He felt inside the pocket for the familiar lighter, silver with "D" etched on its side. The lighter had shown up in Daryl's hands about six months before, and even though Rick had noticed it, he'd never asked Daryl where it came from, and Daryl was never one to volunteer information. 

The sheriff leaned back, stretching his legs forward, pushing the vest onto the step next to him. The blue of his eyes lightened slightly as the rising sun pushed shadows away from the porch. Rolling the cigarette lightly between calloused fingers, he thought back over the last year, since the time his group had first met Aaron on the road and subsequently come to Alexandria.

So much change. The war against Negan and the Saviors had stripped Rick of every vestige of misplaced pride. He was all too aware of the price of that pride to let himself fall under its spell again. The conflict had taken more than that though, it required every ounce of strength and energy his family had, more sometimes. It was the same for the people from The Hilltop and The Kingdom.

Many lives had been lost, and no community remained untouched by the destruction that war brings. At the end of it all, with Negan dead and his men either killed or turned against him, it was finally time to grieve, to sleep, and for Rick to open his eyes again to what was around him. If he'd learned a single lesson in the last few minutes, it was that he'd missed a few things while he was concentrating on the war.

New memories surfaced, displacing the bloody memories of war and the smell of freshly-dug graves. Through everything, Rick had become vaguely aware of a change in Daryl. It never really registered in his thoughts, it was just an idea that floated, forgotten, at the back of his mind, behind the responsibilities of leadership and his concern for his family. 

The hunter had never been less than fierce and devoted, that much had not changed. Not once had he neglected to be where Rick needed him to be, to offer advice when Rick asked, or to line Rick out when he needed a swift kick to straighten his thinking. Rick knew Daryl would never blame him or feel slighted by neglect when Rick was shouldering so much. 

But now he wondered if maybe he should have been more aware of the space between the lines of his relationship with the man he had come, long ago, to call his brother. If he'd paid attention, as he was doing now, sifting through his memory, he would have been aware that Daryl had drifted away quietly, and more quickly than he'd realized. 

Rick hadn't questioned the hunter's motive when he moved out of Rick's house and into one of his own. He had assumed, in passing, that Daryl wanted more time alone. The hunter was used to that, needed that, and when Rick's house became "command central" during the war, there weren't many places left for quiet reflection. He knew his blossoming relationship with Michonne may have also affected Daryl's choice, but in his usual quiet way, Daryl had been supportive of the couple. 

Rick also hadn't questioned when Daryl quit coming around for dinner, or showing up to check in with him for no particular reason, or when he had stopped restlessly wandering the streets day and night as he'd done regularly since they'd come to Alexandria. Often, Daryl met Rick along the way and it was these times that they would walk the perimeter together, talking about crops, supplies and things more mundane, and on occasion, more personal. It was these times, and when the sheriff and the hunter were fighting back to back, that they felt most like brothers.

"You gonna smoke that?". Daryl's voice pulled Rick out of his thoughts. He'd been so swept up in his thoughts, he hadn't even heard him come through the front door onto the porch. 

Rick swiveled his head to look up at the hunter. Were they still brothers? Had too much changed? Had he let Daryl down? His friend returned his gaze, hands fidgeting, his expression uncertain, a red flush warming his neck and face. 

"I'm thinkin' about it." sighed Rick, sitting up again and making room for Daryl on the steps. The hunter picked up his vest and held it as he sat down quietly, his face forward, his eyes everywhere but on Rick.

"Have you ever smoked at all?", Daryl quipped, stealing a quick glance at Rick. 

"Once, in high school. I nearly coughed up a lung. ". Rick laughed, and felt the tension ease slightly between them. 

"Hand it over." The hunter took the cigarette from Rick's fingers and began searching his vest pockets for his lighter.

Rick held the lighter up in his other hand. "Looking for this?" As Daryl reached for it, he pulled it back with a slight grin. "So, where' d you get it?".

Daryl squinted and looked straight into Rick's eyes through wisps of dark hair. They held there for a moment before Daryl smirked. He looked back at the street. "Paul gave it to me. He found it on a run and thought I'd like it." 

Rick followed Daryl's gaze to the street. "Paul, huh?", he said as he handed the lighter over. Daryl just nodded weakly, shifting his eyes to his boots. His fingers brushed across his graying beard nervously. 

At the same time, and without looking at each other, they both said "I'm sorry."

Daryl turned toward Rick in surprise. "What tha hell do you have to be sorry about?" He looked genuinely confused.

"I knew. And I just didn't pay attention. I've always been pretty good at that, not seeing things I don't want to see for one reason or another. Like Lori and Shane.", Rick glanced quickly at Daryl. "Not that this is like that. It isn't at all. I just..." His voice trailed off as he fidgeted his hands, staring at his fingers.

"I'm sorry I didn't say nothin'.", Daryl said softly after a moment. "There was so much happenin', we lost so many people. I just told myself it didn't matter, that we were busy and this was war, and how the hell was I gonna bring it up, anyways?" 

They both let out a quick laugh, finally really letting themselves relax. 

"I should've paid attention. You're my brother. If it matters to you, it matters to me." Rick turned his head toward Daryl, pausing until Daryl looked back at him. "I didn't mean for us to grow so far apart that I didn't know about something so...important." His face was earnest and sincere. "I really hope you're happy".

The hunter nodded and swallowed hard. After a moment, he replied quietly, "Well, obviously I am."

That remark did them both in. Both men chuckled, which soon became full blown laughter, until Daryl was hiding his face behind his hands and Rick had tears in his eyes. 

"I'm also sorry I walked in on you," gasped Rick, wiping his eyes and trying to regain composure. "I didn't mean to interrupt a...umm...good morning."

******

A noise from downstairs had pulled Rick out of an unusually peaceful sleep. Instantly alert, he turned his head to see Michonne still sleeping soundly beside him. He eased out of bed quietly and pulled on his jeans, moving silently through the upstairs hall with his gun in his hand. The door to Carl's room was slightly open, and he peeked in to see his son fast asleep with the covers pulled over his head. Another sound...this time a distinct but light thud...came from downstairs, so Rick moved quietly and quickly down to the living room. 

He glanced around quickly, waiting for any sign of an intruder, when a soft moan drifted in from the kitchen. "Shit", he thought. If that was a walker, it was someone from Alexandria who had died and turned unexpectedly. The only people in the house besides Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judith were a couple of guys from Hilltop who were staying the night after dropping off supplies. Maybe something had happened to one of them.

Keeping his guard up, Rick moved swiftly to the dark kitchen and flipped on the light, immediately aiming the gun toward the figure moving around the island. 

Or, figures. Two figures. Rick first laid his eyes on Paul. About five minutes later he would realize that actually, the only person who called this man Paul instead of his preferred nickname of Jesus, was Daryl. Over the course of the war, the long-haired man with the perceptive eyes and ninja-like skills had begun spending more time at Alexandria, eventually rooming with Daryl and becoming a member of the community.

The other figure in the room was Daryl himself, who braced Jesus against the island counter. His right hand was locked on Jesus' hip, the fingers of his left hand curled into Jesus' hair, as the younger man's hands moved in wanting grasps beneath Daryl's shirt. Bodies pressed tightly, they moved in smooth thrusts against each other through their jeans, their mouths sharing a deep and languid kiss. 

Until the lights came on. 

The two men pulled out of their kiss and froze in place, both staring at Rick but not moving apart. Rick was slammed by such a sudden state of shock that he lowered his gun, stuttered something completely unintelligible to all of them, even himself, and turned to run out the front door. Daryl's vest lay haphazardly over a kitchen chair by the door. Rick grabbed it on his way to the porch. 

******

"Why'd you take my vest if you didn't want the smokes?" The laughter had died down and the two men sat comfortably with each other on the porch.

"I just wanted...I was barely thinking. I guess I knew if I had your vest, you'd have to come talk to me." Rick said quietly. 

"We ran out of coffee. Came by t' steal a cup before we went out t' hunt" explained Daryl. "We didn't mean to...ya know." His cheeks blushed bright red. 

Rick looked carefully at Daryl, knowing the shy man wouldn't be willing to carry on this conversation much longer. "I panicked. I saw you and Jesus, and I suddenly realized how long it had been since we really spent time together. It's like you have this whole other life going and I was stupid about it. Oblivious." He paused for a fleeting moment. "It hit me that we aren't close like we used to be. I don't see you much. Now I understand why, but...I miss that."

Rick knew that Daryl's rough exterior housed a very loyal and sentimental heart, something only those closest to him understood. He just had to say the truth and let Daryl handle it however he wanted. Anything was better than drifting apart, after everything they'd been through.

Daryl lit his cigarette and took a deep drag, pulled on his vest and dropped the lighter into his pocket. Nodding, looking at Rick from the side in that way he did when he wanted to connect but didn't quite know how, he stood up and turned toward his friend.

"Wanna take a walk?", he rasped, his voice belying a hint of emotion. 

Rick stood to face him. "Yeah. Yeah I would." He took a few steps down the sidewalk and turned toward his friend, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Daryl grinned and rolled his eyes. He glanced at the front door as Jesus poked his head out, his beautiful blue eyes wide and his brows raised in a question. 

"Gonna walk the perimeter.", said Daryl to the younger man, biting his lower lip but looking at him with a hint of sweetness behind his eyes. Jesus smiled brightly. "Sounds good. I'll make us all breakfast."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are welcome & appreciated!


End file.
